


Helmet Heads

by a_taller_tale



Series: Five Reds and a Baby [3]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-16 22:27:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7287196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_taller_tale/pseuds/a_taller_tale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a baby in Red Base. It won't stop crying. Simmons needs to fix it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helmet Heads

“Simmons!” Grif yelled through the radio in his helmet, voice cracking in a panic that could be heard clearly even with the cries of the baby in his arms.

It was the really young baby squall that wasn’t grating, it was just horrible and constant and filled him with this urgent need to _fix it_. But he didn’t know how to fix it, so the next move was to get Simmons to fix it. 

Nevermind that Simmons probably had less experience with kids than Grif did. Grif had practically run his own daycare with all Kai’s friends when she was little, the pack of them running around and causing terror. 

But this baby was so _small_. 

Also, he went to Simmons first because although Donut appeared gung-ho and ready to work when he needed to, he conveniently disappeared when there was work to be done. Grif swore he was even talking to Donut when they heard the first wail from where they had set the baby’s pod as a makeshift cradle next to Grif’s bed. They called Grif the lazy one, but at least he was honest about it. 

He found Simmons at the computer terminal. All the hazardous waste from the crash had been re-purposed but Sarge had claimed most of the hardware in the name of the Red Army and Kimball had been too baffled to protest. 

The rest of the bases were much better than the temporary shelters these days. Though Chorus was poor they had lots of alien tech to trade for the human tech and supplies they desperately needed. 

Simmons was putting their purchase order for baby supplies in to New Armonia now, but there were a few packs to make formula and a few cloth diapers included at the bottom of the pod. Actually, after this crisis was over Simmons was going to need to do their laundry too. 

Grif had changed the kid. Fed him. He’d just woken up from who knows how long a nap, so sleep couldn't be the issue. 

That was something: Did some faceless scientists take care of him for the first few months or was he just grown and shipped to Sarge? They were no strangers to science that didn’t make sense since Sarge’s surgery, but that could fuck a kid up. What if it was defective or something? 

_How would they even know?_

“Simmons. _Help._ ” Grif was slightly out of breath and the kid was STILL CRYING. 

Simmons got up from his chair and walked over, boots clanking. ”Maybe he’s hungry. Did you feed him?” 

“Jeez Simmons, you think I didn’t think of that? It was the only time he shut up!” The kid had actually snuggled into Grif’s gauntlets, eyes half closed as he sucked down the bottle in two minutes. They were going to need a lot more formula. 

“Okay okay.” Simmons reached them and tilted his visor down to examine the infant. 

The cries stopped for a second and Grif had a moment to wonder if the baby just hated _him_ before the kid started screaming so loud his entire little body shook. It was even higher pitched than before. 

“I told you to make it stop, not make it worse!” Grif’s voice cracked again. They were not equipped for this! 

Simmons flinched back. “I- I don’t know! He sounds scared! What did I—" Simmons cut himself off. “Ohhhh.” 

“Oh? What ‘oh’? Is he dying?!” 

Simmons reached up and hit the releases for his helmet. His hair was matted to his head ridiculously, but Grif didn’t have time to comment on it before the crying stopped. The baby was settling, wide eyes on Simmons, who was setting his helmet down so he could take off the gauntlets. 

Grif was still staring at the baby in amazement, who was soothing himself with little hiccups when he felt his own helmet release and Simmons pulled it off his head. Then the eye contact of this little creature was all for Grif. The kid burbled a little. 

“Here, let me take him. Get your gloves off.” Simmons carefully picked the baby up like a piece of blown glass that could shatter on him, but he was holding him right, so Grif followed Simmons' instructions and started taking his gauntlets off. 

Grif let out a shaky breath, forcing himself to untense. “That’s all he wanted? To see faces?” 

“They discovered the ‘still face paradigm’ over 300 years ago back in the early 21st century. It was an experiment where babies became distressed when their caregivers didn’t engage with them emotionally.” The baby was quiet now, eyes locked on Simmons and clearly listening to his voice. Grif’s eyes were on Simmons too. Watching that soft expression on his face looking down at Grif’s… son. Something turned over in Grif’s chest and it wasn’t a bad feeling. 

“Babies are social animals just like adult humans,” Simmons continued, “Except they’re just starting at it, so they need to learn faces and your smell and what touch means… If we’re going to keep him we’re going to need to wear armor less.” 

Not wearing armor, huh? 

The war was over. On Chorus, at least. Reds and Blues were sort of the only holdouts who still wore armor every day aside from when it was time to sleep. But it had been years for all of them since they just casually ran around in civvies. How would he even get used to that again? And being seen was a lot different without the protection a helmet offered... 

Like Simmons. He looked slightly offended at Grif’s staring now. It was so easy to read him. They’d have to learn how to guard themselves again. 

“What _is it_ , Grif? I know you think it's all nerd stuff but if we want to raise a healthy, smart, useful citizen of the galaxy you’re going to need to study up on human development. He needs every advantage he can get with your DNA.” 

Grif’s mouth quirked. “We?” 

“Well you—You’re obviously hopeless at this already. You need me. You didn’t even know babies like faces!” 

Grif couldn’t help laughing at that as Simmons spluttered more. Did Grif really have to point out to the idiot that he just volunteered to be Grif’s kid’s other dad? 

“Babies like faces?” Donut interrupted from the doorway, pulling his own helmet off, because of course now that they didn’t need or want his help Donut would be right there. “That might be a problem if we want Lopez to babysit!” 

Lopez followed him in. "[I was built for vehicle and equipment maintenance, not childcare.]" 

“You’re right, Lopez! I could absolutely draw you a face. I am really talented with pens!” 

Sarge burst in next. “I see you all lollygagging. Get back to work, dirtbags!” 

“Little D wants to see your face, Sarge!” Swiftly Donut dropped his helmet so he could unseal Sarge’s and shoved Sarge toward Simmons and the kid. 

“I already told you, Donut. We’re not calling him ‘Little D,’” Grif insisted. 

Simmons’ eyes met Grif’s after the ‘we’ even though Grif had meant the team. “What's wrong with Dexter, though? It’s a decent name and you’re not using it.” 

Meanwhile, Sarge looked a little startled to be so close to the baby he had ordered online. 

The baby turned his head to examine the new face uncertainly. Then he proved to have better survival instincts than Grif ever did and suddenly gave Sarge a toothless grin, eyes crinkling. 

Sarge’s lips twitched like he almost couldn’t resist smiling back, but coughed and grunted to cover. “Dexter, huh?” 

Grif slumped. “Fine. Something I don’t have to come up with. And I can just blame you guys if he hates it and thinks it’s a nerd name later.”

**Author's Note:**

> dear god have you ever thought about how many main characters on rvb have d names? 
> 
> Video of the still face experiment. It’s meanly funny, but also interesting. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=apzXGEbZht0


End file.
